


Finishing the Roll

by boxofhatebrains



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Spoilers, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:34:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28016316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boxofhatebrains/pseuds/boxofhatebrains
Summary: Eiji can't let go of the past and his grief...yet.
Relationships: Okumura Eiji/Sing Soo-Ling
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	Finishing the Roll

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dracadancer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dracadancer/gifts).



"I think you should do it," I tell him as I set down the salad.

He glances away with a frown as he carefully takes out silverware for the both of us and I've grown to really hate that look.

"Okay," I sigh and cross my arms, feeling them tight against my chest, "Give me one reason, just one, why you shouldn't?"

We sit down to eat, but don't move after that. I keep looking at him as he studies the cracked plate below him.

"I don't have anything new," Eiji answers after some thought, then reaches towards the food, but I pull it away.

Irritated, he finally looks me in the eye.

"Not good enough," I snap, "You can always get new work. We can look around, get you new equipment, whatever you need. We're in New York, Eiji, I doubt you won't find something to take a picture of."

"I'm rusty," he replies, making another excuse.

"Then pick up your fucking camera. How hard can it be to-"

"Hard," he interrupts and has an edge to his voice. It's difficult for him to sound any kind of threatening, but he can sound determined and when he's got something he's stuck on, he doesn't budge.

I back off a little; I try another route.

"Hey," I softly say, holding onto his wrist so I can get his attention, "I just think this will make you happy. You said before that you miss it..."

Ashamed, he hangs his head.

"I don't think I'm ready..."

"When will you be? Will you ever feel ready?"

He doesn't answer right away and I can tell that when he does, he'll say that he doesn't know.

"Why do you always give up on things when it's hard?" I ask, quietly, honestly.

"I don't," he gets defensive.

"Then why did you give up jumping? Or living in Japan? Why come back here?"

After staring ahead with his expression slowly hardening, detaching himself from me, from the table, from New York, just cutting off the emotion, he mumbles, "I'm not so hungry anymore."

"Eiji", I murmur, more pleading than anything, and reach out to him again, but he just coolly studies my hand, "Eiji. I want you to be happy-"

"I am happy," he hisses, pulls his arm away, "Why do people keep asking? Why do they always look at me like I'm going to die? I'm fine."

"Take a few," I do beg and I do touch him, squeezing his shoulder, then get a sudden idea, "You can do them now. Take pictures of me."

"What?" his attention snaps back and he chuckles, "Wha~t? No, don't be silly."

"I'm serious," I tell him and stand, "Come on, let's get your camera. Just take a few, for practice."

He hesitates, but sighs and slowly nods, defeated.

"We'll try," he whispers and it's so quiet, I'm not sure if it's for me to hear.

His apartment isn't big and neither is his bedroom. I sit on the bed that looks so clean and ordinary like it could be in a department store. His room is very simple, nothing cramped or overflowing, very plain. I guess he just needs the room to sleep, and I've seen his room before, but it was a while ago and I would have thought by now there would be something...I don't know, unique to Eiji in it, but...

He pulls his camera out of its case and it looks so old, there are scrapes on the cover and I find myself smiling. That camera reminds me of so many things, of how it was before...

My eyes drop as an instinct, my stomach twists. Maybe I shouldn't have ask this from him. Maybe even I wasn't ready. But damn it, we have to face this sometime, we have to move past Ash someday.

When he tells me to lean back and loosen up, taking the first picture, it isn't as climatic as I had thought. It was quiet and solemn. It was tense as the camera clicked and captured me on the film, imprinting me there in his room, on his bed.

My chest is tight. My fingers feeling the coolness and stiffness of his sheets. It feels so intimate and I wonder if this was where I had wanted it to lead without really realizing it. Maybe I've wanted this all along. And it makes me feel guilty, makes me feel like I owe Ash something, trying to take away the only thing he really had...

"What's wrong?" Eiji asks softly and I glance up at him and the camera craddled in his careful hands.

"Nothing," I lie and he knows it, but is too timid at what I might say, so he leaves it at that.

After a few more shots, I take a slow, even breath and slowly peel off my shirt.

"Sing?" he asks, lowering the camera.

"Isn't this what models do?" I can feel my heartbeat everywhere, so loud and distracting. I tell myself that I don't mean anything like that, that this isn't sexual, but I can't fool myself. I want it to be sexual. I want him to notice my body.

"You don't..." he speaks brokenly and deflates a little, feeling the crossroad coming and not sure which path he wants to travel, if he'll take any at all.

"It's hot anyway," I tell him, pretending to be casual.

Eiji's fingers tighten on the camera, but he lifts it to his face and I hear the sharp snap. I let out a breath.

I don't know how to model, so my poses are awkward and stiff. The silence between us doesn't help, either.

After a while, he runs out of film.

"That's all," he sadly smiles, like we've also come to an end...of what, I don't know, but how he says it, the words mean goodbye.

"You have another roll," I point to his bag, "In that other camera."

He hesitates, "There's already some on that roll." There's some of Ash on that roll is what he means. Like if my pictures share it, the negatives of Ash will be corrupted or cheapened.

"Then finish it," I evenly tell him and know what I'm asking.

"I don't want..."

"Don't want...what?"

He sets the camera down and sighs.

My hands shake as I reach down to my jeans, feeling the metal button there. His eyes grow wide and his hands suddenly move away from the camera.

"Let's finish this," I say, soft and exposed and I wish I could be stronger, but I'm scared shitless.

"I can't," he spits out.

I move off the bed, gingerly make my way to him. He pales as I get closer, I duck my head towards his, not to kiss him, but just be close, just feel that intimacy. He doesn't push himself away, but he doesn't look at me, his head tilted to the side.

"Let's finish the roll-"

"I can't. I told you," he hisses, like he's furious at me.

"Eiji," I whisper, dipping my head lower, by his ear, "Come here."

I tug at him, pulling towards the bed, while my other hand picks up the other camera. It has even more scratches than the other one.

"No," he firmly says.

"Come on," I coax him.

Even as his feet follow mine, he breathes out, "No."

And when we're sitting on the bed, so close to touching, his whole body shakes and he fiercely murmurs, "No."

I pick up the camera and surprised at how heavy it really is.

"Don't," he warns, eyes shooting to me, galring darkly.

My finger presses the button, Eiji's angered, flushed face in my view.

"I told you not to," he seethes, fists clenching, "Why? Why must you always push me? Why do this to me, Sing? I thought we were friends."

"We are," I flatly say, my finger pressed against the dull, raised metal of the trigger button.

"Why?" he asks again, pained and frustrated.

"Because you need someone to push you to your limit," I answer, then add gently, "That's what Ash did, right?"

"You are not Ash," he snaps with so much venom and it hurts, the tone hurts, but even more it's the thought that Eiji is all alone with all that quiet rage and hidden sadness. He's just so alone, makes himself alone because it's what he thinks he should be. He thinks he deserves it...

"I don't want to be Ash," I reply, taking another shot of Eiji, "I just..."

The camera feels too heavy.

We look at each other, trying to figure out the easiest way for this, the way we won't be so scathed and scarred. But I don't think there is one. It's going to hurt, but...it really will be for the best, right?

I lean forward and it stings when I kiss his cheek, all this tension between us, it rips me up. He doesn't pull away, though, but I see tears in his eyes, tears he's struggling to hold back.

"I can't," he says again, but it's so limp and flat.

Softly, I kiss his cheek again, enjoying it this time, breathing in his smell, his quaking breath. He still doesn't move, tears filling his guarded eyes.

My lips move to his ear, his neck, his forehead - over and over- and by the time I reach his lips, the tears have broken free and slip down his face, but he doesn't pull away.

Our first kiss isn't passionate or graceful, it's sluggish and dry and careful. It's fragile and terrifying. But his lips move with mine, sliding against them, opening slightly.

His hair is stiff, but smooth against my prying fingers that want more, moving all over; finding the base of his neck, he moans softly into my mouth. I move to unbutton his shirt and he pulls back, not suddenly like he's surprised, but more like the line he had drawn before we started had just been, regrettably, crossed.

"Sing," he ducks his head, "I don't know why you want to do this, but...really, I can't."

"Why? You keep telling me that, but you never say why."

When his eyes find mine, they're accusing and resentful.

"Say it," I urge him.

"I love Ash," he admits so begrudgingly, like it's ugly or shameful, like it's a crime. More tears gather and pour as he breathes in and realizes what he's just said aloud and to me.

"I know," I acknowledge it without judgment, "But you have to let go-"

"No," he desperately interrupts, shaking his head, "No..."

"Kiss me again," I say, "Not because you love me or love him any less, just because that's what you want right now."

He looks unsure, eyes shifting to my jeans.

"It's okay to do this," I assure him, "It's okay to want this. I want this, too."

After a few moments of thought, he leans forward, doesn't kiss, just leans forward. My heart pounds loudly, so loudly, sliding so awkward and clunky through my veins. I wonder if he feels anything like this, something more shallow than love, but far from friendship or simple infatuation. I can feel it shiver all over my body.

"It's just us," I encourage him, "It's okay. It doesn't mean you don't love him still..."

We kiss again, harder and deeper this time. He touches me, hands studying the muscles of my back and arms. I lean into his heat, pressing against the fabric of his clothes. Our kisses becoming more experienced and intense, wetter and hotter.

Quietly I unbutton his shirt and kiss the top of his chest, relish his hitched breath, moving higher to his neck, his ear, his face, back to his mouth. While my mouth is still tangled in his, I push him gently down on the bed. I feel my face flush, feel my erection stiffen and grow uncomfortably in my jeans.

I pull myself again from his mouth and pick up the camera.

Click.

"Don't," he licks his lips, and it's not a command, but a request.

I kiss him harder, opening up and letting my tongue sweep in his mouth.

Click.

He struggles against me when he hears it, but I suck on his tongue, and grind my hips into his. His gasp is muffled just like his following moan. He clutches onto me and I can feel him getting harder beneath me.

I bite his neck, sucking and licking, trailing down; Eiji sighs and lightly rubs against me.

Click.

Each shot is blind and I don't know if we're even in the frame, but if we're not, even if all you can see is an elbow or some strands of hair, I want it. I want this moment to mean something, to have something to prove it even happened.

When I pull down his pants, I don't give him time to be embarrassed or shy, I start licking and sucking in earnest. He gasps loudly and some kind of mangled phrase is uttered in Japanese. I don't know if I'm any good because I've never done this. I've kissed another boy before this, but that's the extent, so I just go by instinct.

He seems to really be enjoying it, but suddenly, he tilts my head back.

"What's wrong?" I ask, honestly worried, and I wipe my mouth.

He catches his breath before murmuring, "Move closer to me. Your body, move it closer."

So I do, my heart again roaring in my ears. Shaking, his hands undo my pants and slide them down my hips, down my thighs, to my ankles where I shake them off. Now we're both naked, lying by each other, both so nervous and spooked.

After a chaste kiss, I lean back down, curl, and face him again. Slowly, he joins me the opposite way and I feel his breath pool in my lap. He's lost some length of his erection but when I press my lips to it, he begins to harden again. Without another thought, I continue where I left off, sucking loudly and learning the taste of Eiji.

He soon follows my lead and I moan when I feel his lips encircle the head and suck it into his mouth.

And we suck and lick and clutch onto each other and it's so good, better than I could ever imagine. I can feel his saliva moist and sticky against my thighs; his hips moving, nudging his cock in deeper, fucking my mouth...

Regrettable, it doesn't last long. I come first, grunting and squeezing his ass as I feel the orgasm wash me, bathing my body as his tongue laps the underside of my cock. He comes soon afterwards and I suck him dry, swallowing everything and not caring. In fact, wanting more.

Before he can get up, leaving me there, regretting what we had just done, I settle next to him in bed, holding the camera awkwardly out.

He sighs and reaches up, repeating, "No."

"Hey," I face him, "Why do you take pictures?"

Before he can answer, I say, "I like taking pictures because when I look back on them, I can remember...and I like remembering them...Good times or bad. I want to remember, Eiji, even if I have to move on."

He doesn't say anything for a very long time and my arm gets tired eventually and drops.

I can't really see his face, but I can feel the wetness on my shoulder and I feel like an asshole. I shouldn't keep pushing him if he's really not ready. My arm aches and I wonder if his ached every time he hel up that camera to take a picture of Ash, if it still aches...

He takes the camera from my hands and my stomach drops a little, the hope fades.

The silence that follows is lonely and I remember my place, it's not as his lover, it's as his friend. I went too far, became too selfish, and now had to deal with it. I wonder if things could ever be the same again. Can I go back to being just a friend that comes over for dinner when there's nothing better to do?

I'm about to slide out of the bed when he lifts up the camera carefully, aiming it at us...

"Smile," Eiji whispers, his voice rough from mourning, but I do as I look down at him.

The last picture on the roll.

Click.

**Author's Note:**

> I swear it's a happy ending...


End file.
